Heart Of A Champion
by liveforthefight
Summary: Payson reflects on her journey to acceptance and eventually recovery. Definite cannon. Set between 'All That Glitters' and 'Are We Family', contains spoilers for many episodes in that time range. Rating for safety, and brief language. COMPLETE


The Heart Of A Champion

A/N: This story is really still wide open in my mind, I don't know entirely where it is going but I know why I wrote it. Payson has been an inspiration to me since the show came on. Regardless of the fact that I don't do gymnastics, her dedication speaks to me anyway, and elite athlete in a completely different sport because I know that that's the kind of dedication I need to make it to the top.

That day is one I'll never forget. It was supposed to be my biggest victory, this great validation for me, but instead it was the day when everything I had ever known, everything I had ever wanted fell apart. It was the second day of Nationals, and I was in my last event- bars. My back was hurting too badly for me to do it under any other circumstances, even I couldn't push through that kind of pain, but that was nationals, it was different. I could have taken the cortisone, but I wasn't like Kelly Parker. I wasn't going to lie, cheat, and steal my way to the top. So I walked up to the bars on my high horse thinking I was above all that.

It's amazing really what a split second of being unfocused can cause you. Right as I was attempting my release move I felt my back spasm, and instead of pushing through I let go, and fell into blackness. That was when it all started.

I woke up in the hospital, to the sight of my mom and dad sobbing over my hospital bed. I knew then that it was worse than anything I could've predicted. My dad told me I could never do gymnastics again, that my career was over and that if I tried to train again I would end up paralyzed.

Not many people know what it feels like to have your dreams, your life, come crashing down around you in a single moment. I, the one person who had given everything, had to be the one person who lost everything too. The injustice of that never really hit me, only the sadness. Only the grief and the insecurity of for the first time having no idea what my life was going to become.

From the moment I was old enough to do a somersault I had only had one goal, one dream, and that was to win Olympic gold. I had always dedicated myself to it a hundred percent; doing whatever it took to get one step closer to that. Without it, I had no idea who I was. I had lost the one sense of security I had ever had, and it almost killed me.

I spent weeks in that dreaded hospital, listening to countless doctors and specialists and god knows who tell me the same thing over and over again. I thought eventually it would hurt less, but it never did. Each time was like I was hearing it again for the first time, like a knife slicing into my heart, ripping me apart.

I tried to throw my overflowing emotions into physical therapy, hoping, at least slightly, for a miracle. I used what I used to use for gymnastics, all that power, all that drive for my recovery, but I had trouble mustering the willpower. Some part of me refused to believe that it was over, but the rest was pretty sure. It didn't help things that I was incapable of doing almost anything independently either. My biggest accomplishment in the three weeks I spent at that Boston hospital was managing, FINALLY to go to the bathroom by myself. I had lost all of my dignity on top of everything else.

When we got back to Boulder, some things got better, others got worse. I wasn't constantly surrounded by doctors, all repeating the same words over and over again, but my surroundings completed that task for them. Being in my house, watching Becca go train at the Rock, listening to my friends' voices on my answering machine- I still was refusing to take calls- all reminded me. The fact that I was in bed, or on the couch, or sitting around all day reminded me. But most of all the pain in my parents' eyes reminded me, as did the guilt that came whenever I thought about the fact that they gave everything for me to train here, and now that dream was gone.

When finally the girls from the Rock started coming over, and then Nicky, it just got worse. I had to cover up my emotions so as not to seem too bitter about the situation, while inside I was dying. I had had my share of problems before the incident, but I always had gymnastics to turn to when I had nothing else. This time, I literally had nothing left. I got so desperate that there came a moment one night when I was sitting alone in my bed after another gymnastics dream that I literally wanted to die, and had to use all of my willpower to keep myself alive.

Then came high school. That was my mother's brilliant idea to keep me from festering too much at home. I guess in her own way she was trying to help. She thought socializing would help me get through it, or at least give me a chance to be normal, but honestly I was better off sticking with my homeschooling. Not having to deal with the social aspects of school had put me far ahead of my classmates, so being in 10th grade was rather…dull. Beyond that unfortunately most of the students knew who I was- and what had happened, so even THEY constantly reminded me of my lost dreams.

Finally though came a ray of hope. Nicky told me that his father had a connection with the best back specialist in California. Even better was that Kaylie had some sort of publicity party there the same weekend as my proposed appointment, so I had transportation, and an excuse. I even managed to convince my mom. No one believed that this was my chance, except for Nicky and I, but that was enough.

Unfortunately that fell through too. The doctor said the same thing that the others had- my condition was inoperable. That was when the truth of it really hit me. My career was over.

That was when I really started adjusting to high school. I made a few friends, even though most weren't the type that my mother would approve of. I signed up for AP classes at school to challenge myself, and started getting involved in clubs. I wasn't happy, and I couldn't find anything to be truly passionate about anymore, but I was having fun sometimes, and I was alive…ish.

Just when I had stopped believing in miracles though, one came. A doctor called Sasha at the Rock and told him that she had an experimental procedure that would fix my fracture and make me able to safely compete again. I met with Doctor Kliester a few days later. She explained the procedure, and I immediately wanted to have it. I knew that THIS was it. This was the thing that would make it possible for me to live my dream again. My mom however was really nervous about it, focusing only on the potentially fatal risks.

It took several days and several arguments to persuade her. On the last possible day I went into surgery. The first thing I felt when I came out of the anesthesia was…numbness. I remember screaming…then telling the doctor that I couldn't feel my legs. I honestly thought that I was paralyzed. Then the doctor explained that that was a temporary side effect of the anesthesia that would wear off in a few hours.

In a few hours it DID wear off, as did the pain and stiffness I had gotten so used to with the fracture. I felt…normal … again, and it felt GREAT! I wanted to go back to gymnastics immediately, but the doctors told me it would be at least a month, probably more. I could, however, go back to full-time conditioning at the Rock as soon as I felt good enough.

I started the next day, as soon as my mom had made the appropriate calls to pull me out of school. Sasha and the girls were thrilled to have me back, but not nearly as excited as I was. Sasha was really pushing the others so they could get ready for the China meet, which was exactly what I was looking for. I knew how far behind I had fallen in terms of any sort of physical fitness, and wanted to be pushed even harder.

Slowly but surely I worked through physical therapy. It was a long haul of working with weights, stretches, and all sorts of strange exercises. Luckily though I was apparently progressing really fast, and still pain free. After a month my therapist finally gave me the okay to train again…and it was at that moment that I realized that I wasn't ready.

I did something that night that I had never done before- I snuck out of my house. Then I snuck into the rock in my leo for the first time since my injury. I put on my wraps and chalked up, then walked over to the bars. I just stood in front of them for the longest time, thinking. I inched closer to them slowly until they were in range. I went to grip them and flashed back to my fall. I saw myself flying towards the mat, heard the sickening crunch, and then remembered how everything went black. I stepped away. I couldn't do it. It wasn't time. I thought about the fact that if I DID break my back again, no one was there. No one would know for hours. I would have to lay there on the mats, in excruciating pain until Sasha found me in the morning.

I ran out of the gym, ripping off my grips and fighting back tears as I sprinted home. I had never been afraid of gymnastics before, but I was now, and it was paralyzing.

The lockdown helped, in its own right. I knew the time was coming, if nothing else the physical therapist would tell my mother that I was good to go soon and I would have to start training again, or else admit how afraid I was, and that everything my family had gone through was for nothing. I wasn't going to do that. We were thousands of dollars in debt from my surgery. I had to try.

During the lockdown I watched Emily struggling with her own fears, and realized that everyone was dealing with what I was, just on different levels. I knew I had to face it, and I would. Soon. Sasha came up to me on the last day and told me to work with Emily, since I was always so fearless. That hurt. It was almost like he knew…but he couldn't. He would have confronted me. I knew I didn't deserve the opportunity to coach anyone when I was so paralyzed by my fears that I couldn't make myself train, but it was better than the alternative- explaining.

The next day I tried to help Emily, but was powerless when she nearly burst into tears after only one vault. She told me she was terrified…and I heard my own story coming out of my mouth before I could stop it. She dared me right then and there to come back, and told me that she would do her vault if I would do a vault too.

She landed her vault, so I had to try. I walked up to the starting point and saw the springboard. It was too close, and yet too far. I had wanted this for so long, and yet now I was terrified. I heard Emily tell me to trust, and I started running. I did an A level vault that I had gotten when I was eight…and landed it perfectly. I was back!

A few days later was the China meet. At first it really looked like Kaylie wasn't even going to show up- apparently the head of the National Committee had threatened her. Luckily she eventually arrived, albeit the last possible moment. All in all it went great, even if Lauren DID sprain her ankle and have to pull out of the meet. Sasha decided that I was all of a sudden the alternate. I tried to explain why I couldn't go on bars- how I hadn't been on them since my injury- but he told me he needed me to inspire the other girls to do the impossible, so I did. I again got stuck with a very simple routine, but I landed it. Then Emily managed to come in second on bars, even beating out Kaylie, who then came in first on beam. No one anticipated that. The Rock proved itself better than the entire National Team.

I don't know what the National Committee is going to do now, or how things are going to end up, but I do know that miracles are possible, and that I'm gonna train my ass off until 2012, and then I'm going to stand on top of the Olympic podium and know that I did the impossible.

A/N: Well, that's it for now at least. I might write a continuation next season about Payson's full comeback, but it will depend.


End file.
